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Vince Staples - Summertime 06 Album Lyrics



Vince Staples - Summertime 06 Lyrics






Lift Me Up

Hey, I'm just a nigga until I fill my pockets
And then I'm Mr. Nigga, they follow me while shoppin'
I feel like Mickey Richards, they feel like Muddy Waters
So tell me what's the difference, so tell me what's the difference?
My momma was a Christian, Crip walkin' on blue-waters
Was fadin' up in Davis, then walkin' back to Palmer
A fro like Huey partner, Auntie Angie had them choppers
So tell me what's the difference, so tell me what's the difference?
I feel like "F*ck Versace", they rapin' nigga's pockets
And we don't get acknowledged, just thank me for the profit
A prophet just like Moses, if Moses look like Shaka
Zulu, my .44 loaded, I'm aimin' at Nirvana
My bitch look like Madonna, they starin' at katana
Waiter still ain't brought the chopsticks, should have brought the chopper
Uber driver in the cockpit look like Jeffrey Dahmer
But he lookin' at me crazy when we pull up to the projects

[Hook:]
See, this weight is on my shoulders, pray Jehovah lift me up
And my pain is never over, pills and potions fix me up
I just want to live it up, can a motherf*cker breathe?
Life ain't always what it seems, so please just lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up

We love our neighborhood, so all my brothers bang the hood
I never vote for presidents, the presidents that changed the hood
Is dead and green, was standin' on this mezzanine in Paris, France
Feel despairs cause most my homies never finna get this chance
All these white folks chanting when I asked 'em where my niggas at?
Goin' crazy, got me goin' crazy, I can't get wit' that
Wonder if they know, I know they won't go where we kick it at
Ho, this shit ain't Gryffindor, we really killin', kickin' doors
Fight between my conscious, and the skin that's on my body
Man, I need to fight the power, but I need that new Ferrari
Man, I breathe in, bleed this, Poppy Street
I shot them guns cause talk is cheap
Bow your head and pray, okay, now walk wit' me

[Hook:]
See, this weight is on my shoulders, pray Jehovah lift me up
And my pain is never over, pills and potions fix me up
I just want to live it up, can a motherf*cker breathe?
Life ain't always what it seems, so please just lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up
Lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up, lift me up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andrew Watkins, Geri Halliwell, Paul Wilson, Tracy Ackermann
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Norf Norf

Bitch you thirsty, please grab a Sprite
My Crips lurkin', don't die tonight
I just want to dance wit' you, baby
Just don't move too fast, I'm too crazy
Man down, down the ave and get shaded
Take a nigga mind off that
We can dip, f*ck in the whip, slide right back
In the function, one wrong word, start bustin'
Put that on my Yankee hat
I'm a gangsta Crip, f*ck gangsta rap
Where the ladies at? Where the hoes? Where the bitches?
Every real nigga know the difference
Bandana brown like the dope daddy shootin' in the kitchen
Real Norfside nigga, never went to Poly, Wilson or Cabrillo
Cocaine color of a creole
T-scrap movin' for the d-lo, what he know?

I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
From the city where the skinny carry strong heat
Norfside, Long Beach, Norfside, Long Beach

Hit the corner, make a dollar, flip it
Split the dollars wit' my mama children
Folks need Porsches, hoes need abortions
I just need y'all out of my business
Never no problem, playin' no pitches
Never no problem, sprayin' no witnesses
No face, no case, been wit' the shit
Hopped out broad day then emptied clips
Cut class 'cause it wasn't 'bout cash
School wasn't no fun, couldn't bring my gun
Know a change gon' come like Obama an' them say
But they shootin' everyday 'round my mama an' them way
So we put a AK where Keon an' them stay
And that's for any nigga say he got a problem wit' me
How I'm Crippin' where I'm livin', come and follow me
Pistol poppin', Poppy Street

I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
From the city where the skinny carry strong heat
Norfside, Long Beach, Norfside, Long Beach

Nate Dogg still here 'cause of niggas like me
Police still scared 'cause of niggas like me
In the hood like a dollar sweet tea or a Louis Burger
You ain't wit' the business, nigga
Who you murdered? You ain't heard of Coldchain
Best thang, smokin' out the city
Ridin' 'round wit' the same shotgun that shot Ricky
Lil' nigga should've zig-zagged, then he got his back wet
Naughty runnin' Norfside, niggas better fact-check
Frontin' wit' the gun talk, I ain't heard a clap yet
AAll my niggas front street, they a nigga best, yes
'Cept for Little Halftime, Brody bangin' five blocks
So I hit your homie five times, better grab chalk
Did it, got away with it out the Civic
We Crippin', Long Beach City, pay a visit
Park Ramona, pop blocked a corner
Givin' hell 'til it's frozen over, I ain't never ran from nothin'

I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
I ain't never ran from nothin' but the police
From the city where the skinny carry strong heat
Norfside, Long Beach, Norfside, Long Beach
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Michael Volpe, Vince Staples
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






Birds & Bees

Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me

Rounds up in that chamber, I'm a gangsta like my daddy
My mama caused another problem when she had me
They found another dead body in the alley
They found another dead body in the alleyway
Stackin' paper, I'm a gangsta like my granny
It's money over everything if you ask me
They found another dead body in the alley
They found another dead body in the alleyway
I'm stoppin', poppin' like a shootin' guard
My seat is back, I'm too relaxed, not movin' out this car
I shot your child, so what? You know we wildin' after dark
The sun come down and guns come out, you know Ramona Park
Bandana brown, my skin is brown, I'm fightin' wit' the law
We runnin' 'round the city, east, west and the north
G check, better leap if you feelin' frog
You wit' the shit, getcho feet wet wit' the sharks

Not a choice in my heart
Choose to fly or fall, ohh
So if you fall, it might hurt
Choose to fly or fall

Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me
Birds and the bees, they wannabes, they'll never f*ck wit' me

Rounds up in that chamber, I'm a gangsta like my daddy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dacoury Natche, Michael Russell, Vince Staples, Gareth Daly, Adam Manella
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Loca

Baby, baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby

Know your sick of all the same old thangs
Same club wit' the same champagne
Backwoods, tryin' to burn your brain
Wit' a broke-ass nigga in the CarMax Range
You ain't nothin' but a vibrant thang
Ass too thick for your 5' 10" frame
Want to spend all night in your nine lives?
Get to purrin' when that liquor get to burnin'
Get it crackin', why you actin' like a virgin?
Where it come from, mama or the surgeon?
You paid for it, did you pray for it? Get twerkin'
And a nigga gotta sit and wait for it, is it worth it?
Why I ask when I already know?
Don't mind me, mind already gone
Nigga better not keep callin' ya phone
Have my dogs in the yard at his home

[Hook:]
Baby, baby, baby, baby
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy

Girl, you lookin' like somethin' out of King
Magazine, fifteen in the magazine
Hope a nigga don't run up tweakin'
I'm tryna to have a good time this evening
91 Freeway, eastbound, speedin'
Late night but the face right, I need it
Mando, I'm the man though, you see it
Niggas wanna kill me, so I gotta keep it
I ain't really into clubs, into nightlife
Only kick it wit' the thugs, I ain't never did a drug
Weed blowin' what I does, need your mind right
They won't ever catch a nigga at the stoplight
What your life like?
Would you ride for a nigga, die for a nigga?
Court room lie for a nigga?
Switch up to set up a snitch on a nigga?
Maybe, still gon' drive me crazy

[Hook:]
Baby, baby, baby, baby
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy
You know you drive me crazy

Siempre quiere estar en la calle gusta con amigos como pendejo nunca quieres estar en la casa
Tienes cosas hacer en la casa también
Siempre quiere estar con mío en nunca quiere estar conmigo what the f*ck
Yo no sé que pasa hacer, but you need to get your shit together
Because a mi no me vas a tratar como ninguna otra pendeja estupido
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Lemme Know

[Hook - DJ Dahi:]
Pop it baby, don't keep me waitin'
Be my lover, be my lady
Other people drive me crazy
Really got me thinkin, about ya body

[Verse 1 - Vince Staples & Jhené Aiko:]
I know it was your birthday
I know I didn't call right away
I know it hurt you in the worst way
I know that I would trade it all if you stay
I know I'm not perfect
I know that everybody ain't
But if it's one thing I know that I know, I know nothing at all
You don't pick up when I call
I'll make it up by tomorrow
You know that love is a brawl
So I'll be fighting for ya, I'll be fighting for ya

[Hook - DJ Dahi:]
Pop it baby, don't keep me waitin'
Be my lover, be my lady
Other people drive me crazy
Really got me thinkin, about ya body

Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala

[Verse 2 - Vince Staples & Jhené Aiko:]
Can I hit it in the morning? Can I hit it in the night?
And if I told you that I love you would you know it was a lie
Pretty woman, how you function with the devil in your thighs?
I see heaven in your eyes, I love to see you cry
The drugs inside your mind got you thinking different
Why you hiding from me? F*ck your inhibitions
Why you crazy lover? Think that you should be my baby mother
Let me slow it down, think I'm kinda tripping

[Hook - DJ Dahi:]
Pop it baby, don't keep me waitin'
Be my lover, be my lady
Other people drive me crazy
Really got me thinkin, about ya body

Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala
Lalalalalalalalala

[Bridge - Vince Staples & Jhené Aiko:]
Ass fat, can I take it out them jeans? Lemme know
Church bells sing, wedding rings, Lemme know
Baby girl I'm ready, whatchu ready for? Lemme know
F*ck the fuss and fighting, we should let it go, lemme know
Feeling like I need you, I need for you to lemme know
Nothing come between us, I need for you to lemme know
Everybody looking for that special soul, is it you?
If you think it's true, need you to lemme know

[Verse 3 - Vince Staples:]
Baby lemme know, if you feelin' right, you can spend the night
We can go, anywhere you like, nothing got a price
I suppose, that you wasn't quite the type who be doing it
Fo' sho, we can keep it on the low and take a load off
Soon as you walk up in the room, take ya clothes off
Bed to the floor, baby you know how it go
Nothing less and nothing more than what we make it
Consummating for a long time 'til the condom breakin'
Conversations in my head about some head, you got some commentary for a nigga?
I ain't tryna be too forward with ya, lookin' forward to ya
Tryna split a couple kids, maybe mortgage with ya
Do it all to get ya
So just lemme know

[Hook - DJ Dahi:]
Pop it baby, don't keep me waitin'
Be my lover, be my lady
Other people drive me crazy
Really got me thinkin, about ya body

[Outro - Jhené Aiko:]
I'mma let you know, that I got that dough
But if you take a toke
You gon' be runnin' round tripping 'til you get your hands on more, yeah
You gotta be certain cause 'fore you consider f*cking me
Cause you hit this shit once I know you gon' be in love with me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DACOURY NATCHE, BRIAN KIDD, VINCE STAPLES, JHENE CHILOMBO, ERNEST WILSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Dopeman

[Joey Fatts:]
Tell me whatchu need, bitch you know a young nigga got it
Pills to the weed, Poppy Street, niggas 'bout that profit
I'm the dopeman, out here servin' dope to nigga's mommas
I'm the dopeman, tell me whatchu need, I got that-

[Hook - Kilo Kish:]
I don't need a gun just to melt a nigga brain nigga
I could pull up to the slums with a quarter ki of caine
I'm the dopeman, I'm the dopeman
I can get you high, baby I don't need a plane
You should hurry up and buy cause we sellin' everything
I'm the dopeman, I'm the dopeman, get with the program
Get with the program

[Vince Staples:]
Alright, alright, alright, we gonna do it just like this!
I need a kilo of everything you muf*ckin' you got, we tryin' to sell it all!
Crack, coke...
Spend the summer days sellin' hay
Spend the summer nights sellin' white
FEDs settin' traps on the A
Down [?] ave in the ice
Alright, tryin' to make a dollar bill
Don't hide, pay me mine and getcha mama killed
Whatchu need, whatchu got makin' plays
'Til I'm laid in the grave, gettin' paid

[Hook - Kilo Kish (Vince Staples):]
I don't need a gun (gun!) just to melt a nigga brain nigga (brain!)
I could pull up to the slums (slums!) with a quarter ki of caine (caine!)
I'm the dopeman (Dope, I'm that man!)
I'm the dopeman (Dope, I'm that man!)
I can get you high (high!), baby I don't need a plane (plane!)
You should hurry up and buy (buy!) cause we sellin' everything (everything!)
I'm the dopeman (Dope, I'm that man!)
I'm the dopeman, get with the program (Dope, I'm that man!)
Get with the program
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, JOEY VERCHER, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Jump Off The Roof

[Verse 1 - Vince Staples:]
What's your addiction baby? Love can make a bitch go crazy
Kiss, hug, f*ck then get faded, fall out and it's all out war
Head twirl and your vision blurry, dopeman in that kitchen stirrin'
Sold it, we so lit, dope burners, f*ck is you so forgetful for?
Girl you know that you need that raw
Girl you know that you need Visine
Preem laced with that cocaína
Pop a pill, pop what's in them jeans
Cop a feel, cop a half sixteen
Pour a deuce up and then start leanin'
Tryin' to die higher than Pimp C
And Big Moe, you know how the shit go (You know how the shit go)

[Hook - Vince Staples:]
I pray to God cause I need him (I need him, I need him)
Cocaine withdrawls and I'm fiendin' (I'm fiendin', I'm fiendin')
Life way too hard, am I dreamin'? (I'm dreamin', I'm dreamin')
Highway to hell and I'm speedin', one way to tell if I'm breathin'
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof

[Verse 2 - Vince Staples:]
Baby girl love me, I love ya back just don't turn ya back on me
Though I'm borderline crazy, mama crack baby, she just come when I sleep
So just hold my hand all, and don't wanna be apart of your problem, just wanna sleep
Without my lungs stopping like they used to
I hate when you lie, I hate the truth too
Can't wait 'til you die, I hate that we through
F*ck around and get a man, leave him dead, wastin' with the blame, I ain't playin' with a muf*cka
I was raised at the end of the lead with the surf and the sandal, tan in this muf*cka
Wanna feel how you feel, if it's mine, then it's real, then it's fine baby girl I don't need a rubber
Nothing wrong in the world with another mother (You know how the shit go)

[Hook - Vince Staples:]
I pray to God cause I need him (I need him, I need him)
Cocaine withdrawls and I'm fiendin' (I'm fiendin', I'm fiendin')
Life way too hard, am I dreamin'? (I'm dreamin', I'm dreamin')
Highway to hell and I'm speedin', one way to tell if I'm breathin'
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof

[Bridge - Snoh Aalegra & Vince Staples:]
If I told you, that I love you, would you care?
If I said I need you would you be right there
If I told you, that I love you, would you care?
If I said I need you would you be right there
Be right there... (You know how the shit go)

[Hook - Vince Staples:]
I pray to God cause I need him (I need him, I need him)
Cocaine withdrawls and I'm fiendin' (I'm fiendin', I'm fiendin')
Life way too hard, am I dreamin'? (I'm dreamin', I'm dreamin')
Highway to hell and I'm speedin', one way to tell if I'm breathin'
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
On three let's jump off the roof, on three let's jump off the roof
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CZESLAW NIEMEN, ERNEST WILSON, SNOH NOWROZI, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Señorita

Hey, hey

Ay, 9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me
She better not get

9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me, she keep me, she-

F*ck ya dead homies, run ya bread, homie
Got some lead for me, I'm on Artesia
Parked in my Bimmer, bumping my own shit
I'm focused, they stuck on that old shit
Livin' for that True Religion is broke shit
I can spend that on a MAC with a long clip
Fly in that Benz but you hide in that Focus
My nigga, just focus, I'm tryin' to paint you a picture
We stuck in the moment
My burner gets stuck if I shoot it too much
So a nigga resorted to domin'
That's somebody's son but a war to be won
Baby either go hunt or be hunted
We crabs in a bucket, he called me a crab
So I shot him in front of the Douglas
I cannot be f*cked with, we thuggin' in public

Ay, 9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me
She better not get

9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me, she keep me, she-

What mean the world to you?
Is it fast life, money and clothes?
Probably f*ckin' these hoes
Or what would you murder for?
Will your name hold weight when the curtains close?
Nigga caught one case and I heard he told
Snitch get a full clip and closed casket
Won't hug your bitch when the ho ratchet
Cold jumper, been shootin', no practice
Been tourin', whip foreign, coupe crashin'
Still bangin' 2 Naughty 2 Nasty
Still "F*ck the police" they won't catch me
My feature too pricey, don't ask me
Go hard 'til Goyard on my baggage
He mad we won't fight, I'm gon' tag him
Mask up at midnight and start clappin'
Kids crying, still snipe him, no lackin'

Ay, 9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me
She better not get

9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me, she keep me, she-

Ay, 9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me
She better not get

9 millimeter, my brother's my keeper
Was serving that ether before I did features
My mamacita, she know how to greet me
She know how to keep me, she keep me, she-

I don't have a reason, oh, but I
I'll get in your mind (get in your mind)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah (get in your mind)
I keep it loaded and ready right here beside me
(I'll pull up on you)
(I'll pull up on your mind)
(I'll pull up on you)
(I'll pull up on your mind)
(I'll pull up on you)
(I'll pull up on you)
(I'll pull up on you)
(I'll pull up on your mind)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Vince Staples, Taiwo Hassan, Kehinde Hassan, Nayvadius Wilburn, Elijah Blake, Snoh Nowrozi
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Summertime

[Hook:]
This could be forever, baby
This could be forever, baby
This could be forever, baby
This could be forever, maybe
Do you like the sunshine, do you like the snow?
Do you wanna talk about it, or be alone?
I think that you should know that, this could be forever, baby

Open up your eyes and tell me whatcha thinkin'
Open up your mind, and tell me whatcha seein'
Inside of me, where I be fussin', f*ckin' up this evenin'
I probably couldn't fix it if I knew the reason
Up on the sea, where I see you fallin' in the deep end
Is it love? I would really love to know the meanin'
What's the grudge that you're holdin'?
Hold my hand let me take you to the land
Where the ocean and the sands are meetin'
Look at the sun, all we need to see to know our freedom
Open up your heart, if we don't love then we fall apart
This could be forever, baby, I never seen you wetter, baby
Then when the tears fall soakin' up your sweater, baby
I didn't mean harm, don't make me regret it, baby
Cause if I never knew ya, I could never do this to ya
Hope you understand, they never taught me how to be a man
Only how to be a shooter, I only need the time to prove it

[Hook:]
Cause this could be forever, baby
This could be forever, baby
This could be forever, baby
This could be forever maybe
Do you like the sunshine, do you like the snow?
Do you wanna talk about it, or be alone?
I think that you should know, that this could be forever, baby

My teachers told me we was slaves
My mama told me we was kings
I don't know who to listen to
I guess we somewhere in between
My feelings told me love is real
But feelings known to get you killed
My feelings if I miss it's true
I spend my moments missin' you
I'm searchin' for atonement, do I blame my darker tone?
I know somethings are better left unsaid and people left alone
Pick up the phone
Don't leave me alone in this cruel, cruel world
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Michael Volpe, Vince Staples, Ronnie Smith, Darwin Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






Ramona Park Legend Pt. 2

[Earl Sweatshirt:]
I'm a muf*ckin' legend, I'm a muf*ckin' legend
And this how a nigga feel, and this how a nigga feel
I'm a muf*ckin'

[Vince Staples (Earl Sweatshirt):]
One hand in the air, two hands on the nine when you shoot (I'm a muf*ckin' legend)
When I die build a shrine on my side of the town if it's cool
It's so hard, tryin' not to go so hard
It's so hard, tryin' not to go so hard (I'm a muf*ckin' legend)

[Earl Sweatshirt:]
I'm a muf*ckin' legend, I'm a muf*ckin' legend, I'm a muf*ckin' legend

[Vince Staples (Earl Sweatshirt):]
One hand in the air, two hands on the nine when you shoot
When I die build a shrine on my side of the town if it's cool
It's so hard, tryin' not to go so hard
It's so hard, tryin' not to go so hard
(I'm a muf*ckin' legend)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






3230

Hittin' corners, thuggin' with the blower, barrel louder than a motor
Keep the engine runnin' when a nigga run up on ya
Another day in sunny California
The FEDs takin' pictures and they tappin' Motorolas
Everybody snitchin', gotta live with paranoia
A soldier since the stroller, ask my mama if you doubt that
Homie where ya clout at? You ain't ever push nobody's scalp back
45, 9s 'round 9 in the AM
Yesterday I sat in place, today I'm finna take it
A week ago, they killed my bro, that's been the price of bangin'
Since my granny Alameda days, robbin' cause we need a raise
Fingers do the talkin' when the Cs do the walkin'
And the Cs been polluted, baptism for these shooters
Seventh grade, I went to OCA, hoopin' up at Lueder's
With my Ru from Campanella we was crashin' shit together

Three, two, three, zero

3230 Poppy St, we ain't chasin', they brought the beef
Used to the sounds of violence, my neighbors ain't never call police
Call it followin' protocols, spark it if you ain't know the call
Got this bitch that live off of Market that's down to hold the heat
Turn the water and power off, got to send patience, powered up
Evictions notices go unnoticed, the final hours up
Livin' off of borrowed time, committin' crimes that's organized
Fortress ones and fortified, just tryna build my castle up
Got it in a dream, at night time we maskin' up
The deadly game of tag, the older generations passed to us
I got a clip that's long enough to shoot until the casket come
Wait until that casket drop, they droppin' when that magnum pop
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, STEVE WYREMAN, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Surf

Broken and all I had was my homeboys
Either build or destroy, what you going for?
Just a pawn and a plan tryin' to hold on
When the smoke clear why was the war fought?
Bout time you abandon the folklore
How you rich but your bitch in an old Ford?
How you black sellin' crack for the white man?
How you real, wouldn't kill for your right hand?
On the stand sworn in with ya right hand
It was all goin' good 'til the rave end
Knife scars on ya neck from ya best friend
Now it's talk, keep a TEC on ya nightstand
Every nigga dead to the world 'til his life end

You got it, I pawned it, you dreamt it, I start it
You're missin' the target, what more can you ask me for?
You want it, my dearly departed
I cocked back and shot it, what more can you ask me for?

More black kids killed from a pill than the FEDs in the projects
In the planned parenthood playin' God with ya mom's check
You ain't even been to prom yet
Sixteen, heard you wanna be a star girl
What he charge for the dream that you bought girl
What's the price for a life in this dark world?
Couple hundred where I come from, how you sleep when the sun down?
I ain't really tryna judge, know you lookin' for somebody you can love
He was lookin' for somebody he could f*ck
Took ya body, wouldn't bother with you none
Spoiled rotten in the bottom of the slums
Caught up in the fun

You got it, I pawned it, you dreamt it, I start it
You're missin' the target, what more can you ask me for?
You want it, my dearly departed
I cocked back and shot it, what more can you ask me for?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Vince Staples, Michael Volpe, Mikky Ekko, Lakisha K Robinson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Might Be Wrong

[Hook - Haneef Talib:]
We might be wrong, might be guilty
We might be right this time
You tried to warn me, this war that would kill me
I sacrificed
Die to the world, I took the money
So for my life
Can't sleep at night, you shoulda seen the crib though
So f*cking nice

Speaking on the unjust way the justice system is justifying crimes against our kind. Justice is supposed to be blind, but continue to cross color lines. Hands up, don't shoot. Shot. Stand your ground. Blacks don't own no ground to stand on so we stand on our words. Black and hooded is the official probable cause for cops to keep weapons on. I can't breathe through the chokeholds and gun smoke. These realities [?] and appear to inform black boys and men of the dangers outside their doors. Slain in society by sworn protectors. Protected by their peers, grand juries full of friends. No charges brought against them. They kill and arrest us, transgress and oppress us. Damn, cuz

[Hook - Haneef Talib:]
We might be wrong, might be guilty
We might be right this time
You tried to warn me, this war that would kill me
I sacrificed
Die to the world, I took the money
So for my life
Can't sleep at night, you shoulda seen the crib though
So f*cking nice

They searching, they searching cells. Hold on cuz, (Oh it's the-) there's police in this motherf*cker, you ain't hear them? You ain't hear the alarms? Three, four, five... six, seven, eight, nine... ten, eleven. Another day in our block

[Hook - Haneef Talib:]
We might be wrong, might be guilty
We might be right this time
You tried to warn me, this war that would kill me
I sacrificed
Die to the world, I took the money
So for my life
Can't sleep at night, you shoulda seen the crib though
So f*cking nice
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, JAMES FAUNTLEROY, STEVE WYREMAN, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Get Paid

[Hook - Vince Staples & Desi Mo:]
Get paid
Pocket full of lint, hollows in the clip
I been robbin' since a kid gettin' paid
Dollars for the rent, get change for the chains
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Get paid

[Verse 1 - Vince Staples:]
Tomorrow never come
I'm on the block all night 'til the sun
Come up, I can sleep when I'm done
Four deep, five seats, three guns
Hopped out nigga, where you from?
Long clip, gun aimed, don't run
On Crip I need your funds
The money gettin' low, finna run up in the store
Freaky bitches tryna ho, I'ma put 'em on the stroll
Niggas snitchin' on the low, never talkin' on the phone (Hello?)
That's why them niggas screamin' Free Big Meech
Not me, nigga f*ck police
Split a pig nigga wig for the boy, SD
Money motivated in the LBC, come and holla at me

[Hook - Vince Staples & Desi Mo:]
Get paid
Pocket full of lint, hollows in the clip
I been robbin' since a kid gettin' paid
Dollars for the rent, get changed for the change
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Get paid

[Verse 2 - Vince Staples:]
Lemme tell you what the OGs told us
Money over bitches, keep your head on your shoulders
Pussy leave a lot of niggas dead if you notice
Big booty cuties be the coldest, cobras
Sittin' in the lawn of the fortress, coolin'
Baby wardrobe, all award show, bougie
Think you could hit that, nigga you stupid
Better getcho racks up 'fore you start choosin'
Rag on my face, hat on me say Yankees
Safe in the floor, K to ya dome, pay me
Watch where you go flossin' them gold daytons
Come to the norf, my niggas gon' caine 'em
Sellin' cocaine with my daddy out the Days Inn
Nothin' but a G thang, dollars in the G string
Long as she gon' make it, she gon' shake it
Money puttin' niggas in the Matrix, face it

[Hook - Vince Staples & Desi Mo:]
Get paid
Pocket full of lint, hollows in the clip
I been robbin' since a kid gettin' paid
Dollars for the rent, get changed for the change
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Ay, get paid, get paid
Get paid

[Outro - Desi Mo:]
Sellin' pussy on the stroll
Sellin' highs for the low
Runnin' in somebody home
Money is the means of control
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Street Punks

I ain't worried about the police
I ain't worried about these little niggas talking about they hold heat
I ain't stressing going broke
I don't never leave them residences alone, keep it on me
I'm the nigga that you quote
I'm the only conversation if you speaking up on Long Beach
Get to acting like you know
Don't be acting like you bold, get it cracking at a show
Heard the FEDs taking pictures, let a motherf*cker pose
Tryna be the only Crippin' nigga sitting in the Vogue
Better put me on the cover, undercovers at my home
Tryna catch a nigga slippin', but I'm stickin' to the flow
Heard these niggas flippin' coke, why the f*ck these niggas broke?
If there's shooters in the squad, what's the bodyguard for?
You ain't calling me collect and I ain't pickin' up the phone
Got some homies from the set who ain't never comin' home
You wouldn't know about it

[Hook:]
You a street punk
You a muthaf*ckin' street punk
No one know about you
You a street punk
You a muthaf*ckin' street punk
This'll blow up at you
Where the cash at, where the cash at?
Where ya pass at, where ya stash at?
Bend my last rack doing head at
Why? Cause you a muthaf*ckin' street punk!

I don't know if ya heard of me
But you heard them shots on the block, it's a murder scene
Go on call the cops, open heart, durin' surgery
Now his breathing stopped, stupid niggas should of knew we tripping
Now we in the box, Winchester's
Hundred in the box, Smith Wesson
Stuff it to the top and we coming to your spot
Knocking on the door, askin' where he at
Playin' games then we kick it down, everybody flat
On the ground, kids get kidnapped, go and ask 'bout it
Well you know how we rock it, nigga, you know who we wackin' now
You ain't never caught a body, know it cause you talkin' 'bout it
Catch me off [?] outta-
You a motherf*cking street punk

[Hook:]
You a street punk
You a muthaf*ckin' street punk
No one know about you
You a street punk
You a muthaf*ckin' street punk
This'll blow up at you
Where the cash at, where the cash at?
Where ya pass at, where ya stash at?
Bend my last rack doing head at
Why? Cause you a muthaf*ckin' street punk!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Hang N Bang

[Hook x2 - Vince Staples:]
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?

[Verse 1 - Vince Staples:]
Skinny nigga from the north side (That's true)
F*ck a Swisher, burn a 45 (That's true)
Keep it hidden in tight jeans (That's true)
Shoot a nigga 'fore he fight me (That's true)
Skipped school in sixth grade (That's true)
Rite Aid stealing ice cream (That's true)
Spray paint for the cap guns (That's true)
Held up for his Nikes (That's true)
Pro club on the white tee (That's true)
NYs on the NEs (That's true)
Six fives for my enemies (That's true)
Pop lock when you find me (That's true)
Eight shots in the Hi-point (That's true)
But a jam at about three (That's true)
Walk up, never drive by (That's true)
Back through when the cops leave (That's true)

[Hook x2 - Vince Staples:]
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?

[A$ton Mathews:]
Okay, okay, okay
That's whats brackin'
That's how we give it up on my side, though
My niggas straight Piru bandits
What the word?

[Verse 2 - A$ton Mathews:]
Chubby nigga from the West side (That's true)
Knew gangsta bitch [?] (That's true)
Cashing checks and we press lines (That's true)
Push a button, get your neck tied (That's true)
MAC-11, ain't no safety on it (That's true)
Bendin' corners put a halo on it (That's true)
Press the mollies outta nana's kitchen (That's true)
Paddle rocking in my pot to piss in (That's true)
Junkies flockin' off of every corner (That's true)
Making product out somebody's daughter (That's true)
Age sixty on the gun here (That's true)
Hit T-Mobile for the young flip (That's true)
And amigos see them crime dogs (That's true)
We were walking through the cross roads (That's true)
LBs and the YGs (That's true)
West [?] where you find me (That's true)

[Hook x2 - Vince Staples:]
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
Wanna hang, wanna bang, wanna slang?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERNEST WILSON, MATT LOPEZ, VINCE STAPLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






C.N.B.

Oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no, oh no

[Hook:]
I wake up feeling like I am the coldest nigga breathing
Look in the mirror like goddamn I know they wanna be him
I wake up feeling like I am the realest nigga walking
So watch your step and watch that shit you're talking, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say

On 65 I tell the truth, no lies
The sheets and crosses turned to suits and ties
In black America, can you survive?
They made a nuisance once the noose is tied
We gentrified, we victimized, we fighting for survival
No hopes and dreams, just leave us be, we leanin' on the bible
They preyin' on us, prayin' for a better day tomorrow
Hide the fear behind this here bravado

[Hook:]
I wake up feeling like I am the coldest nigga breathing
Look in the mirror like goddamn I know they wanna be him
I wake up feeling like I am the realest nigga walking
So watch your step and watch that shit you're talking, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say

We black scared for real, was bred to kill
Been leavin' niggas hangin', what you sayin'?
Don't shake my hand unless you're passin' payment
Keep your salutations, need my forty acres
Why they hate us? Why they want to rape us for our culture?
They greet us, feed us, bleed us, then they leave us for the vultures
They break the grill, get off with millions, tryna to break their focus
[?] the man to mow a lawn, the hopeless

[Hook:]
I wake up feeling like I am the coldest nigga breathing
Look in the mirror like goddamn I know they wanna be him
I wake up feeling like I am the realest nigga walking
So watch your step and watch that shit you're talking, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say, okay?
(Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
So watch the shit that you say
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: BRIAN J. KIDD, DACOURY DAHI NATCHE, KEVIN RANDOLPH, VINCENT STAPLES, ERNEST DION WILSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Like It Is

I tell it like it is, and how it could be

Heaven or hell boy, freedom or jail boy
A Jansport bag full of shit I could sell for
The higher, the low boy, just me and my homeboys
The police kill us so we made up our own laws
Been fighting this long war, there's shells in this shores sand
Still young but a grown man, could tell by my stash
Been stackin' money and problems as I wait for the rapture
Death never been no threat, I be chillin', relaxin'
Everybody bleed

[Hook:]
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make it up to heaven, despite the things I've done
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make my momma proud, feel like her only son
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
With everything I need, with everything I want
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To do it like nobody has ever done

When I was in seventh grade my grandfather told me don't get caught lovin' the streets cause they never gonna love you back. But I feel like it's all we got so it's all we really do love. At the end of the day I feel like the problem is the people that control it don't really come from here, so they can't do nothing but look down on us. We look at them, we see somebody that could help but they look at us and all they see is a nigga. It don't really matter anyway, we all gon' die one day man. One day

Do doves cry when the black man dies, or do we croak with crows
The young catch gun shots, the old catch the holy ghost
Ho I love not, I never seen no pot of gold
Just ball windows and six fours with no switches
Was broke with no bitches, she love me though
You'll kill me if it make you richer, what you screaming, you my brother for
Heart is where the hatred is, the brain that stained the love below
And life is what you make it so I'm makin' money for my folks

[Hook:]
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make it up to heaven, despite the things I've done
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make my momma proud, feel like her only son
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
With everything I need, with everything I want
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To do it like nobody has ever done

When most people look at a person who does what I do they look at us with these preconceived notions as if, it's a set way for us all to be. But we all people at the end of the day so I wonder why we don't treat each other like it. You're looking at a person telling them that they story don't matter when they're no better than me, walkin' down the streets tryna to shoot at somebody. Cause all we got is these dreams man and y'all ain't never had to have nothing, and that's the last thing you want from anybody. Is to not really have nothing

I been through hell and back, I seen my momma cry
Seen my father hit the crack then hit the set to flip a sack
I done seen my homies die then went on rides to kill 'em back
So how you say you feel me when you never had to get through that?
We live for they amusement like they view us from behind the glass
No matter what we grow into, we never gonna escape our past
So in this cage they made for me, exactly where you find me at
Whether it's my time to leave or not, I never turn my back

[Hook:]
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make it up to heaven, despite the things I've done
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To make my momma proud, feel like her only son
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
With everything I need, with everything I want
I gotta be, I gotta be, I gotta be the one
To do it like nobody has ever done
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DACOURY NATCHE, BRIAN KIDD, VINCE STAPLES, ERNEST WILSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






06

Next time on Poppy Street

Good mornin', hope you had a good time last night
I need money from e'rybody, mo'f*cker, better pay your tithes
Now I can change your life, f*ck what's wrong, f*ck what's right
What you want? What you like? Your world been mine

There's niggas gettin' paid over there
And niggas got it made over there
I'm finna bring the gang in the buil
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ernest Wilson, Vince Staples
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management








Summertime '06 is the debut studio double album by American rapper Vince Staples. It was released on June 30, 2015, through ARTium Recordings, Blacksmith Records, and Def Jam Recordings. The album was primarily produced by No I.D., alongside a variety of high-profile record producers, including DJ Dahi, Clams Casino, Brian Kidd, Christian Rich, and Mikky Ekko. The album was supported by three singles: "Señorita", "Get Paid", and "Norf Norf".

Summertime '06 received widespread acclaim from critics, who praised the album's production and Staples' lyricism. The album debuted at number 39 on the US Billboard 200, selling 13,000 album-equivalent units in its first week.
Performed By: Vince Staples
Genre(s): Hip hop
Producer(s): Christian Rich, Clams Casino, DJ Dahi, Mikky Ekko, No I.D.
Length: 59:05
Released: June 30th, 2015
Year: 2015

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